authors note; I'm going to be away for a week and I thought I would post this new fic I've been working on just to get some feedback and see if I should continue. It won't be as long as my other multi-chapter ones, probably around 10 chapters or under. Anyway, enjoy :)

p.s sorry for any mistakes or grammatical errors!

disclaimer; I do not own Glee or any characters mentioned in the story unless stated otherwise.


I can't remember the last time I cried. I don't really know the right time to cry, unless someone is rubbing my back and telling me 'it's okay to cry.' That's only happened once, because my rabbit died when I was 9 and my mom knew she meant the world to me. Since then, I can't remember if I've cried. Some people would say crying is for the weak, but I can't tell if those people are just weak themselves.

I remember the last time I laughed. My brother got me to watch an episode of family guy with him and I thought the little boy with the football shaped head was funny. Although I didn't really understand the words coming out of his mouth, his look to me was funny.

Laughing is pretty much my medicine. My mom tried to make me take pills once, claiming that this medicine would make me better. I knew I couldn't change but I wasn't going to make her unhappy. I like my mom. She's the nicest person I know, but there are days when she gets angry at me for being clumsy.

I don't like it when people get angry at me for being clumsy. Because it's something I can't help. And if I can't help something then it shouldn't be fixed.

Yesterday I got a call back from the job my mom made me apply for. She told me it would help my abilities in communicating with people. My biggest fear is that people won't give me the time of day. But the place I'd be working at is a small grocery store and mom said they were desperate. I didn't believe her at first. Then she explained that they couldn't wait any longer to find a person for the job, so they chose me.

I would have preferred to get a job as a dance teacher at the local studio I went to every Saturday. Mom wouldn't sign me up for class but she let me sit in and watch most weekends. The dance instructor was always hard to read whenever I would watch the class. I didn't know if she wanted me there or wanted me to get out because I was a distraction. But I sat in the corner most times. She looked really tired when she walked into class. Like, more tired then a dance teacher should be.

I used to have the hots for one of the girls there but I felt weird sitting on the side every weekend just watching the class, or more specifically her. She wasn't the best dancer so she was in the back most of the time. Some of the girls in the class would laugh at her if she missed a step and she would send them the most amazing bitch glare I had ever seen. Those girls never laughed at her again. She even threatened that she had razor blades in her hair.

I heard her sing once and that's probably why she got a big job in Hollywood. I kept going back to the studio but she never did. I didn't cry when she left. Because my mom always told me to be happy for people who get out of here, rather than drag them back in.

She went to my high school, but we never even spoke there. She was part of the popular group while I hovered in the background amidst the flowers and over grown grass on the oval. I'm pretty sure her and her friends thought I was some weirdo that had a thing for the outdoors, although she never looked at me once.

Before my mom wakes up, which I know will be soon because she sets her clock to 9:00am, I step down the stairs like a mouse heading for a slice of cheese. Jerry, my new boss, wanted me to come in by 10:00am. I had showered last night, so I didn't need to this morning. Now all I need is a slice of bread with nutella on it and I can leave.

My kitchen cupboards aren't that full. There's a few glasses, some knives and forks and about 4 bowls. My pantry has even less inside of it, along with my fridge. I'm only allowed one special treat a week and this week was nutella.

It isn't a long drive to the grocery store. Mainly because all of the stores and houses are within 50 metres of each other.

Living in Lima, Ohio has made me happy. Probably because I've never been anywhere else in the world. I want too though and maybe when I get money from the grocery store I'll have enough to leave.

I graduated from Mckinley High School about 1...2...4 years ago. I didn't have any friends because I didn't allow myself to make any. Also, people didn't give me the time of day unless it was so pour slushie along the hallway floor so I would slip. I wanted to make my mom really proud when I finished school, but my brain wouldn't think properly.

So I settled for the score I got, even though it was probably one of the worst in my year. I still passed. I couldn't go to college because I was too scared to travel far from home. My mom let me stay at home with her, claiming that it was immature of me. But I know she secretly liked having me around. I think I'm her best friend - her only friend. Recently she's been begging me to find a job. Now that I have one, I can finally settle in Lima knowing that I'm bringing in money for her and my brother.

My 11 year old brother, Sam, is much more confident than me. He says that when he becomes a freshman he'll have lots of girlfriends. When I became a freshman, I didn't have any friends.

Sam took my mom's genes. Not the jeans you wear because I doubt they'd fit him, but the genes you receive from your parents that binds you together. I got my dad's genes. He was really into performing and making people laugh. So when he died 6 years ago I lost my humour because I felt like he gave it to me.

I can see some people through the window of the grocery store. One of them is my boss Jerry and the others I can't quite tell from outside in the car. So I step out and dust my sneakers off because the majority of Lima is dust.

The bell above the door rings and I walk in to be greeted by Jerry. I've been buying from here since I was a kid. Everything's so cheap and tasty.

"Brittany, get yourself an apron and help out some customers in the back," He says, nodding his head towards the furthest isle. His hands are full of cans of fruit and soup.

I grab an apron from underneath the counter and walk towards two girls that are scanning the shelves intensely.

"Hi," I greet them with a grin. One of them looks at me and my smile grows.

"Britt, what biscuits would you recommend?" The blonde asks. Her name's Quinn. She works at the bar just around the corner with Rachel whose standing beside her. They both went to Mckinley with me, but we all never spoke because our social groups were different.

But when we found out we were the last ones left in Lima, we knew that we had to be friends. They were the first friends I made and being 22 that's not something I'm proud of. So I don't talk about it too often.

"The ones with pink icing and hundreds and thousands are my favourite. But it really depends on what you're doing while eating them. Are you having some tea? Or just snacking on them while on your break from work?" My fast paced talking had both the girls giggling.

Rachel grabbed a packet of Monte Carlo biscuits and the ones I suggested.

"These better taste delicious," She says, brushing passed me to the counter. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat when she said that. I always thought with Rachel's big smile and charm that she'd be out of Lima faster than anyone. But she didn't get accepted into the school she wanted because of her lack of extra cylinder activities. Something like that.

"You can bet they do!" I yelled back. Quinn smirked and poked at my shoulder. She then went with Rachel to the counter and paid for the biscuits. Now I feel like biscuits.

It's kind of weird seeing those two hang out and laugh together. I think desperation for a friend seemed to have got the better of them. They never once looked at each other in High School. Mainly because they had different interests - Quinn being head cheerleader and Rachel being, well, the voice of Glee club.

I lied before. They weren't the first friends I made. I just don't like talking about the first one - the girl from the studio. We only started talking after we graduated. When I said I had heard her sing once, I was telling the truth. But it wasn't a situation where I had to spy on her to hear her sing. She actually sung to me. I was fooling around with some moves after everyone left and I didn't think anyone was around. She stood in the distance watching me for a while and then started laughing. I almost thought she was going to make fun of me. But then we somehow found ourselves sitting down together and talking about our future. She told me she wanted to make it big and that I would too because apparently my 'foolish' moves actually had the potential to become great.

I only saw her on weekends because we didn't hang out in the same area at school and I normally had to baby sit my brother. I didn't know why because he had grown out of diaper's a while ago. But my mom insisted that he was trouble when left alone.

When I did see her, I would get this funny feeling inside my belly. It was like fireflies were fluttering around in there trying to deliver a message to me. She said she didn't know why we didn't hang out in high school because I seem like 'a cool chick' - those were her exact words.

Then weeks later I heard about her job offer in Hollywood and before I could wish her good luck she had already gone. That's when I felt hopeless. She was my first, unconfirmed, friend and she had left me. It's not like we were close or anything. We would talk about normal things, like what music we like and where we hope to be in 10 years.

She was also my first kiss. When we spoke about our future she would repeat how much she wanted to marry some rich guy and have 12 kids. So I didn't immediately know her reason for kissing me. I knew was kissing her because I wanted to kiss her. Simple. I tried not to think about the kiss, but it became really hard after seeing her every Saturday. But because she acted like it never happened, I did too.


"I like the move where your stomach and back curves, like a worm standing up," She gushes, sitting across from me.

"The body roll?" I question, showing the move again. She nods enthusiastically and I blush in return. I always tend to get red whenever she's close to me.

"I bet all of the guys and girls love when you do that move," She says, poking my side. I like the feeling. It's almost as if the tip of her finger can cause electricity to fuse under my skin.

"I don't really go out," I say, turning my head down to the floor and tracing random patterns with my finger.

"Do you mean to say that you never get hit on?" She asks, her eyes wider than the width of her face. That would be hilarious if it were true.

I look up and giggle at her expression, but she's completely serious.

"Don't laugh!" She squeals. "You're gorgeous Brittany, if you hit the town you'd have the world at your feet." Her compliment feels like a rainbow on a completely dark, rainy day. I wonder if the pot of gold at the end of it is her.

"I wouldn't know how to handle all the attention," I reply, shrugging nonchalantly.

"But of course you've been in a relationship right?" She questions, tilting her head down to stare me in the eyes. She always tries to do that. I don't ever want to give in because I'm afraid of what she'll see.

I shake my head no and I hear a gasp escape her lips. It's like she sucked all the air from the room and I can feel my body temperature rise quickly.

"H-have you ever been kissed?" She asks tentatively.

"Uhh..." I trail off because I know that she'll burst if I tell her anything further. I don't want to blurt out anything else so I cup my hand over my lips and breathe through my nose.

"Brittany," She says firmly, balling her hands into fists and planting them on her hips. It's the same stance my mom adopts when she's questioning me about something bad I may have done.

I shake my head, to gesture that I'm not going to speak. She's probably figured out by now that I've never kissed anyone because of my silent treatment. A normal person would flaunt if they kissed someone, but I'm still yet to experience anything like that.

"Please Brittany, why are you covering your mouth?" She reaches for my hand but I pull back, causing her eyebrows to scrunch in confusion. "Do you think I'm going to kiss you?" One of her eyebrows are raised now and her lips are slightly pinched together.

My eyebrows turn down as I realise what she just said to me. I wouldn't mind if she kissed me but I'm sure that I won't be any good at all and I'll just embarrass myself. Then she'll tell everybody about the awkward, quiet girl who couldn't kiss.

"I'll kiss you, if you want." The innocence on her face is breaking my control. The control I've kept within me since I first met her. Is she as nervous as me?

I don't answer because I don't really have time. She's moving in closer, placing her hand against my own and pulling it away from my mouth. I let her. I notice that her eyes never leave my lips and it turns me on knowing that she's probably thinking the same thing as me. Do they taste as good as they look?

Finally her eyes meet mine and I'm caught off guard. I do have time now to back away, because she's moving really slowly towards me. But I don't want her to see the fear in my eyes that everyone else does, so I move in sync with her.

We meet in the middle, lips crashing gently against each others. She works fast and tilts her head so that her lips are creating a motion that I'm trying hard to keep up with at first. Then I catch her rhythm and I take a chance.

My tongue sweeps from her bottom lip to her top lip and her eyes are still closed. She breaks the kiss, bites her lip and moans, obviously enjoying the feeling my tongue gave her. Then with her eyes still closed she whispers, "You're good."

Then we both lean in again blindly and this time the kiss is more frantic. I feel like I'm drunk and I've never experienced being drunk before. Her tongue is swiping sharply against mine and the pops become louder when we disconnect lips. I'm grabbing her shirt and she's pulling me closer by my neck. But then my fingers graze her breast over her shirt and she whimpers.

That's thrown her off and she instantly pulls back. I don't think she meant to whimper. I remember my aunt telling me that when girls feel really good they make really high pitched and lengthy noises. I'm glad I made her feel good.

Her eyes fall to the ground and they fly in all directions of the wooden surface. I should say something quic- "See you around," She mutters, before grabbing her duffel bag and leaving.


"Brittany, customers!" Jerry yells and I scramble to my feet. How the hell did I end up on the floor? I think when I'm thinking too hard my brain weighs my whole body down.

I rearrange a few items on the shelves so it looks like that's what I was doing the whole time. Then I flatten out my apron for no reason and walk towards the front of the store. I see a woman with really big sunglasses on. They look like they're swallowing her face. She sees me behind the packets of chips and freezes.

Did I pee my pants or something? Was my apron on backwards? Then I realise why she's staring. It's because I'm me and she knows me.

She grabs her paper bag full of items and leaves the store so fast. The truck she gets into kind of looks like mine. She kind of looks like Santana. But what famous singer comes back to a place like this.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket and I gasp. Jerry looks over at me with this odd look on his face. Maybe I did pee my pants. I look down at my trousers but there's no stain. I sigh heavily before staring down at my phone. There's a text from Quinn asking me to meet her and Rachel at the diner on my break.

I send a reply saying I will, but it takes me a while because I keep forgetting which letter is where even though they never change spots. I notice a woman and her kid in the candy isle and I greet them.

If that really was Santana that entered the store and then ran away, I really have to work on my words so I can speak with her before she rushes off again. But I'm being crazy. She would never come back to Lima in a thousand years. If Hollywood is as great as those people in movies say it is, then she'd never want to leave.

She made Lima great for me for the while that we spoke, that's why I never wanted to leave. I'd never tell anyone that though. Life obviously had a different plan for her and without hesitating or thinking of me, she took it.

Nothing great happens here, in Lima. Santana was the only person to make me smile around here, but I could never really figure out why. I never even got the chance to ask.

I wasn't going to try and kiss her again even though I was desperate to hear her make those sounds again. But I didn't have to be the one to approach her first, because she showed up at my house three weeks later.


"When are you going to be back?" I ask in desperation that is visible to the next county.

"I don't know Brittany," My mom replies off handedly and hurries out of the door. I watch the door slam and frown in misery. I know my mom won't be home until late, because she always goes out to drink on impulse alone. She knows I have dance class but that's not what is important to her.

Three hours later I find myself in the backyard, which is hardly a yard because it's mostly concrete. I'm holding a weed between my fingers, slashing away at the tiny bugs that fly passed me. One shoots right into my eye and I wince and lose my balance. My knee takes most of the fall as it grazes against the solid concrete. "Ow, ow, ow!" It's stinging and there's blood. Some of my skin is torn from impact but I'm sure I'm not going to die. So I lift myself off the ground, careful not to tense my knee to much because it starts throbbing if I do.

I hop upstairs to the bathroom and look through the cupboard. We're out of band aids. Just as I step into the hallway there is a knock at the door. Maybe it's Sam home early from his friends car garage. I really wanted to go with Sam because I liked motorbikes and apparently they repair them there, but my mom said somebody needed to be at home. I don't know why. We didn't have a pet to look after anymore and my dad wasn't around anymore to ring his bell every time he needed water.

There is another loud knock on the door. More like a bang. I tensed slightly, hoping that I wasn't about to be robbed. When I got to the door I placed my hand on the knob and paused. I looked down at my knee and saw that the blood had dried up. Whoever was on the other side of the door is probably going to be grossed out, unless it's Sam. He would probably poke it.

I open the door and almost faint because of the sun and then realise who is standing in front of me and really begin to fall backward. Hands grab my shoulders to keep me up right. I squint my eyes and step back, allowing Santana inside.

"What are you doing here?" I say and instantly feel how dry my mouth is. I swallow some saliva down my throat and watch Santana fidget in front of me.

"Can we talk?" She asks timidly. I don't remember this girl. She used to be so confident back in High School and now she was acting like I had just told her off for something.

"Y-yeah," I clear my throat, "yeah." She follows me up stairs. I don't know why we couldn't have just spoke where we were, in front of the door, but I feel safe in my room and if what Santana needs to talk about is bad then at least I'll be safe. When we get inside I watch her close the door behind us. This is the first time she's been inside my house and she is already breaking house rules. My mom would kill me if she were home.

Her eyes wander down my body until they land on my knee. Great she's going to scream and run away now.

"What happened?" She asks concerned. I almost want to question why she is being protective, but I don't want her to feel embarrassed and stop. So I shake my head as though it's nothing. "Do you have band aids?" I shake my head again. "Tissues?"

"I think so," I respond quietly.

"Where are they?" I scrunch my eyebrows in annoyance because I should know where the damn tissues are kept. Santana's looking at me worriedly and I really don't want her to because I'm fine.

"I'm fine, don't worry, I'll get them later." She crosses her arms and turns towards the door. Before I can stop her she is out in the hall, blindly making her way through the house.

She returns with three tissues in her hand and a proud smile on her face. I smile with her. "Sit down." I obey immediately. Her eyes find mine for a the shortest moment before they're staring at my knee again. I shake off the feeling that she wanted to say something but refused. I know she wants to talk, I just don't know when and I won't rush her.

Her eyes scan my bedside table and when she opens the top drawer I see her grin. She rips off a piece of tape and sticks it to the tissues before wrapping the tape around my leg to keep them in place. "I'm no Christina Yang but at least it isn't exposed," She states with a proud smile. This time I don't smile back. I understand her joke, but seeing her smile so many times in fifteen minutes is like finding water in the desert.

"What did you want to talk about?" I realise, when she looks up at me, how close we are. The dip I make in the bed causes her to lean into me and it's weird how comfortable I feel. I hope she feels comfortable aswell because it isn't fair if I'm the only one getting a pleasurable feeling from our closeness.

"Th ks..." She mumbles.

"What?" I gulp and I'm pretty sure she can feel me swallow too. "Santana?"

"You know what," She rushes out, "nevermind, I'm not good with this kind o-of thing anyway..." Her sentence ends sharply when she opens the door and walks out, shutting it loudly behind her.

I'm sitting on my bed with my hands frozen by my side. I so wanted to know what she was going to say but then again what if it's bad? What if she regrets kissing me? She said I was good so I don't think that is what she wanted to say.

There are three light knocks my door and I stand up from the bed tentatively. Santana's standing there shyly with her hands balled in tight fists. Her eyes search mine and I can't break our eye contact because I feel like this is my only chance to get to talk to her about us. She may change her mind and not want to see me anymore, so while she is here, I'll take my chances.

"You weren't at the studio today." I blow up my mouth and rub the back of my neck. I wasn't expecting her to say that.

"You noticed." My voice was all croaky. My mouth was still dry.

"Yeah," She breathes out a laugh, "I notice the things you do and it's so strange to me. I never pay attention to anyone."

I take a step forward. "Don't." I stop. "You're so odd Brittany. You do these things and I notice, because something inside of me enjoys noticing you and being around you-"

"Are you a lesbian?" I deadpan.

"What?" She snaps.

"You heard me," I say with the slightest inch of confidence in my voice, "are you gay?"

"No." She doesn't sound sure. I step forward.

"You kissed me and you didn't have to, nobody asked you to and I'm not sure if it's just me or if you're a lesbian for all girls but you kissed me and I can't get it out of my head."

"We cannot start something now," She says it almost apologetically. She says it like there's something more I don't know.

"Kiss me," I take her hand and pull her towards me before shutting the door. "You want to, so kiss me."

"I barely know you," She whimpers. "You don't know anything about me!" I grab her cheeks and press my lips to hers. She grunts and pushes at my chest until I've stepped back. "Don't tou-" I use more of my strength this time to push her against the door and keep her there while my lips assault hers. She whines and her hands try and break free from my hold but she eventually gives up and ends up scratching my waist.

I had no idea I could kiss like this. I hadn't kissed anyone before in my life and here I was taking control of a kiss. I am the pilot and Santana is the engine that makes us fly, so I keep kissing her. She slides her tongue through my lips defiantly, catching me by surprise. My tongue plays with hers like they have been friends for years. It slides along her velvet tongue and sweeps up to the roof of her mouth.

She bites down on my lip and I instinctively push forward into her. Her moan enters my mouth and I swallow it. She finds the opportunity to push me back towards the bed until I fall on to it. She reaches for my thighs and pulls my legs apart. I'm wearing embarrassing duck underwear but by the looks of her grin, she loves it. I wish I had worn jeans or track pants today. Why did I have to be wearing a short skirt? Why did it have to be so hot today? Her lips attach to my inner thigh and she sucks skin into her mouth. I arch my back until she lets go then fall back with a thump on the bed.

I want to see her face while she is down there. I lean on my elbows until I catch her eyes. They are much darker than before. Like when a vampire smells blood and they get all horny. Or like when my rabbit saw a carrot. His eyes were naturally red though.

Her fingers slide down my entrance, coating her skin in my wetness. I can't believe I'm seeing this, up close and so personal. Her eyes are so concentrated on my body and her tongue slides practised licks around my clit. She sucks hard, caresses, kisses, plunges her tongue inside of me. I'm losing my virginity.

My thighs clench around her head and my toes curl once I erupt. Tiny fireworks explode in my chest and I feel lighter. Her lips detach from me and she stands up and wipes her mouth. I sit up lazily, still recovering, and pull her on top of me. She wraps her arms around my neck. I know this was just sex, I just hope she realises how much I would give up just to do this everyday with her.

I lean up and kiss her gently. She moves her lips against mine with practised ease. She has kissed alot. I can tell. I don't know if she has had sex with another girl before, because she was really good. I want to ask.

Her lips pull back with a light pop. "I'm not making out with you because I'm in love with you, okay?"


She just wanted to see what it was like, that's what she said. I didn't get a chance to do the same to her because she left when I remained silent. A week later she didn't return to the studio and I almost cried, almost. That's when I knew I missed her. I missed her in a different way than I miss my dad. I miss his laugh and his jokes and his hugs. I missed her because I had realised what those fireflies in my stomach meant. I realised when I saw Quinn and her boyfriend kissing in the car park. He had his hands on her butt and she was sticking her tongue into his mouth.

It wasn't intimate. But it was still the touch between two people that I really wanted. The touch that sparked a fuse in your body making it hard to breathe. It's when you know you always want to be around that person that lights your fuse.

I realised that's why I missed Santana. Because I never got to tell her I was falling in love with her.


authors note; how was that? if you aren't leaving any thoughts, I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter and will continue reading when I return :)